


All We Have is Now

by Itrustyoutokillme



Category: Prison Break
Genre: Angst, F/M, scylla rewrite, the sex scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 12:56:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10854456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itrustyoutokillme/pseuds/Itrustyoutokillme
Summary: What happens during that fade to black.“This is yours now and forever Michael,” she said softly, flattening her hand over his.  Michael could feel the quickening of her heartbeat beneath his hand and he lifted his eyes to meet hers once more.  “Whatever happens, we will always have right now.”Set 04x01 "Scylla" so spoilers if you haven't seen it.





	All We Have is Now

**Author's Note:**

> Two things. According to my fanfic folder, this is my first fic for TEN years! WHA?! And naturally, just like everything else i've ever written, i'm not happy with it but you guys like my stuff, so here you go! I would really appreciate a comment, or a PM here and there to make me feel awesome :D Secondly, I have been my own beta reader, so if you see any glaringly obvious mistakes, please PM me so i can fix them :)
> 
> Above all, enjoy the show.

Michael's heart pounded in his chest on the agonisingly slow drive back to the safe house. His mind raced, trying to simultaneously take in the new surroundings of the unfamiliar street. Bruce Bennett, a friend of the Tancredi family was at the wheel of the luxury dark grey sedan as it rounded the street corner. The Chicago sun beat down upon the wind shield, making Michael squint in the passenger seat. The window was open, rolled all the way down, and his busy eyes flickered around them, trying to ascertain the meaning of the journey.

_“Let's go for a drive.”_

Bruce's words echoed in Michael's already over capacity brain. Bruce had paid the bail for both him and Lincoln, but Michael was struggling to figure out why. Lincoln sat stone cold silent in the back of the car, the tiniest creak from the leatherette seats signalling his position as the car rocked under his weight. The car slowed as they approached the building. It looked like any other house on the street with its dark wood window shutters and shaded front porch, but Michael could feel something about it was familiar. Michael's blue orbs flickered around the yard, trying to find a signal of meaning as to why they were there. Bruce gave nothing away, keeping silent in the driving seat beside him, the only noise from the small clink of his gold watch as he extended his arm to turn the wheel into the smooth, concrete driveway.

The car bumped up the curb and Michael's hand bumped against his raised knee. He had been resting one foot on the side of another, poised and ready to push out of the car and into a run at a moments notice. All the information Michael had been given up until this point was underhanded, off the record and secretive. The pier liaison with Mahone, the conference stand off with Gretchen and the alley way murder of Whistler in LA. Michael had started running almost as soon as he had stopped, and every time he closed his eyes the spray of James Whistler's blood exiting his forehead was all he could see. Trust was not his friend right now.

Michael nervously nibbled on the hard skin on his finger as they came to a halt. Bruce had already unclipped his seat belt with a click before the sound of the car's engine had disappeared, but he had not yet answered Michael's question. Michael pushed open the car door, springing from the seat with ease.

_“Is she alive?”_

The keys in Bruce's hand rattled, scraping and scratching at the door as he slid the silver key into its slot and turned. The heavy brown door opened with a click but no noise came out. The room was pale, the walls awash with a light grey and the room barely decorated. A heavy, solid wood bookshelf sat against the wall to Michael's left, a thin layer of dust particles having collected around the shelves. One of the books had fallen over, its tattered white dust cover disturbing the dust where it had fallen.

Michael inhaled hard and he could smell her before he even rounded the corner. Sara's scent was unmistakably familiar, something he would never forget. She smelled of vanilla and sweetness, a potent cocktail of love and kindness to which Michael had become addicted. His heart fluttered in his chest and he flushed hot across his body, the tiny hairs on his neck and arms standing to attention.

Michael glanced upwards as he rounded the wall, his hand casually fiddling with his belt loop as he tried to will away his nerves. His heavy boots skidded to a stop on the carpet beneath them and his breath left him as his azure gaze fell upon her. Sara stood before him dressed in casual slacks and a thin white shirt. Michael's eyes roamed her body in disbelief, taking in the tired expression that littered her face. Sara was alive. His Sara was alive.

The room fell away from Michael as he took a tentative step towards Sara, a small sideways smile playing across his lips. Sara shuffled sideways at his advance and began closing the gap between them, her chest heaving up and down with the raggedness of her breathes. It was like a dream and without saying a word Michael reached out his slender fingered hand plunged his hand into Sara's tussled locks.

Sara's lips spread into a wide grinned smile as she laid her head onto Michael's shoulder, absorbing the warmth from his chest. She closed her eyes, inhaling his scent and feeling safe for the first time in a long while. Michael held her to him, his eyes closed and his brow furrowed with a million apologizes. A small grunt of relief left his lips, the finality of his acceptance that what he felt all along was correct. Sara had been alive all this time, he had known it and not being able to touch her had almost driven him mad.

Michael shifted his grip, splaying his huge palm and delicate fingers across the back of Sara's head and crushing his prickly cheek to her hair. Sara's fingernails turned white as she desperately clung onto Michael, her arms hooked under his and her fingernails digging into his shoulder. His tan jacket smelled of pollution and sweat, but above all it smelled of Michael. Sara's eyes stung with familiar warmth as she gulped back tears, her throat closing around the lump that formed there.

Silent words passed between them with their actions, neither of them wanting to let go. Michael peeled open his hazy blue eyes and she was still there in his arms. He pulled back, taking her face in his hands and pushed her messy tendrils from her beautiful face. Sara looked beaten and exhausted underneath he elation and Michael felt an instant pang of guilt. Long, skilled fingers trailed the side of her face and Michael's fingertips burned with the sensation. He stopped, pausing to rest his thumbs against her soft, kissable mouth where his eyes lingered on his goal. Again Michael touched her face, palpating what was really in front on him in disbelief with a soft skim of her lips.

Sara's gaze fell from Michael's eyes to his lips. His mouth hung half open in shock and Sara could feel his warm breath on every hurried pant. Her skin came alive as Michael touched her, his fingers trailing searing hot steps behind her ears and across her cheeks as he drank in her sight. Without words they communicated, blue eyes darting across hazel, breathes matched by heartbeats, each touch like a spark on their skin. Sara shivered hot with want, and Michael could read her like a book, their time apart now too much for either of them to bare as he seized her mouth with his.

Powerful hands gripped Sara's face and Michael crushed their lips together. Hot white flashed behind their eyelids and Michael fought back tears as he kissed Sara like he never had before. The Kiss was quick, too quick, but Michael poured everything he had into telling Sara how much he loved her in that moment. Sara's lips quivered slightly beneath his and then they parted after what felt like hours, Michael crushing her to his chest once more. Sara pressed her face into his shoulder, his jacket soaking up her tears of elation as he held her.

There was never any words. Michael told Sara everything with his kiss. They had found each other again and the rest would have to wait.

  
The cold Chicago night drew in around them, enveloping the house in darkness. Cars could be heard in the distance, but the house they were staying in was far from the hustle and bustle of the main streets. Michael had suggested a take out, and whilst it was no filet mignon, Sara was starving and had forgotten to feed the butterflies that had been dancing around her stomach all day. Michael took one of the hot, slightly damp cardboard cartons from the bag and handed it to Sara. He watched as the smile on her face spread at the almost normal activity as he pressed the chopsticks between his fingers nervously.

“I thought I'd never see you again,” he whispered shakily, his eyes fixed on her before him. Michael gulped down some air, his words of honesty having taken Sara by surprise and causing her smile to fade. Sara lifted her head, her lips plump from their kiss and her long, wavy hair tied haphazardly into a messy bun revealing her pale, kissable neck skin.

Sara was suddenly full, her appetite disappearing as her stomach fell away from her as her hazel hued eyes searched Michael's. She wasn't sure what she was looking for but what she found was a mixture of pain and relief. Michael's features remained unchanged on his beautiful face, now smoother from a much needed shave. Already he had begun to sprout more growth on his chin, and Sara's eyes darted to his rosy pink mouth. The corners of his lips turned up slightly, evidence of his happiness to be near her and then the bed let out a creak as Michael lent forward and closed the gap between them.

Sara paused form a split second, taking in his mouth before she felt his lips on her. Her eyes lingered open a while longer, drinking in his handsomeness. This kiss was softer, a silent thank you to whatever God had kept her safe in his absence, and Michael lingered against her mouth. Sara still tasted the same as he remembered, only this time he could breathe her in, saviour her taste which had been so long denied. Michael took a breath and deepened the kiss, pressing harder against Sara's already swollen maw with an urgency both of them needed.

Sara's hand snaked up to find the back of Michael head, her fingertips itching under his soft, prickled hair as she pulled his face to hers. A small moan of pleasure escaped from her throat and her other hand looped around Michael's neck, holding him to her. Neither wanted to let go, their tongues dancing together in the hot, wet darkness of their mouths, sating both of their hungers. They needed this, it had been too long in coming, and Michael sank a little when Sara pulled away.

Michael kept his eyes closed, Sara's arms resting against his neck feeling like a wreath of fire against his skin. Their foreheads pressed together, noses resting side by side, Michael took a breath and peered up into Sara's heavy lidded eyes.

“I have something for you,” he rasped, his deep words tangled with the lump that still remained in his throat and laced with desire. With a small smile, he slid from Sara's grasp, but she let her hands linger across his skin.

“Ok,” Sara giggled excitedly as Michael crawled across the bed, his knees and hands leaving dents in the soft, dense comforter. She watched him stand next to the bed, hunched slightly and eager to find his prize in the inner pocket of his now discarded jacket.

Michael whipped his hand behind his back, hiding what he had retrieved. With a serious face, he knelt back onto the bed, shuffling closer to Sara and erupting in a cheeky smile as he revealed her gift. Pressed between his finger and thumb was a paper rose, its faded red petals crumpled at the edges and its darkened green leaf showing white lines of extra folding along its length. It was smaller than Sara remembered but was undoubtedly an origami rose. Her origami rose.

“You left this behind,” Michael stated matter of factly with a smile, his lips twitching as he tried to stay serious. A small breath left Sara in a laugh as she plucked the rose from his fingertips and pulled it closer to her body.

“Is that was this is about?” She joked, holding the rose tighter as she slumped down the corded brown headboard of the bed and nestled herself further under the cool, grey sheet. “You're just giving me my rose back?”

Michael's hand found her knee, the thin scrap of sheet material stopping him from actually reaching her skin. They lent closer together instinctively, feeling at home in each others company, and feeling at least a little bit normal for a second.

“Yeah, I guess I'm done now,” he breathed and Sara chuckled beside him, her delicate fingers twirling the rose in front of her. “I can retire,” he quipped, and the reality of the situation came crashing down around them. There was no retiring. The only form of retiring they both knew of was in a box courtesy of the company. The silence wasn't awkward, it was just there, and Michael's face dropped with Sara's as he watched his hand trace lazy circles across her knee.

“How much time are you looking at?” Sara asked sadly, he eyes fixated on the rose before her. The rose that had been so much more than a scrap of paper for both of them.  
“They're saying fifteen years.” Michael inhaled hard, adverting his gaze as Sara turned her head to look at him. She pressed her eyes closed tightly and her hand found his, a silent gesture of comfort as she squeezed his fingers gently. “I have to find out for sure,” he ended sadly. Sara's thumb rubbed over his knuckles hurriedly, almost angrily, like she would never be able to again. She swallowed hard, watching his hand as he spoke.

“I heard Lincoln say something about a deal,” she offered hopefully, wishing it could be possible. Hoping it would be possible.

“No jail time...” Michael confirmed the but with a sarcastic air in his voice. There was a catch, a clause that could so easily end them both. “...in exchange for taking down The Company.” Michael turned away from her as he spoke, the words coming out of his mouth and betraying his belief that it could be done. Michael stared at their hands sadly and silently.

“How?” Sara asked innocently, but Michael's face etched with sadness told her all she needed to know.

“Exactly,” he confirmed hoarsely, depression riddling his words. Finally he turned to her and Sara rested her head against his, her forehead pressing into his strong jawline. Life could be cruel and unpredictable sometimes, both of them were coming to see that. Michael's mind raced with scenarios, plans and ideas that were all ending in the same way, but there was one element he could rely on staying there forever. Sara. “I love you,” he simply said against her smooth skin. “That's all I know right now.”

Sara peeled her head from his and offered him a weak smile. The road to come was going to be long and fraught, but right now they had exactly what they wanted. Michael lent forward and captured her lips with his once more, savouring the way she felt as he lingered against her mouth. They parted, but just for a second, and Sara gently laid her tiny hand on Michael's face, guiding his lips back to her.

Michael's eyes opened slowly and he was looking down into Sara's hazel orbs. Her thumb lazily slid across his bottom lip feeling moist under her touch. “I love you too,” she breathed, her words echoing his. Michael's eyes darted back and fourth between hers, searching for an answer to the question he had poised on his mind. Sara knew him better than anyone else, knew how to read his thoughts and his feelings, so with another long, languid kiss, she told him her answer.

Feverishly, Michael deepened their kiss, pressing Sara's into the soft, white pillow beneath her. Her legs bumped the now discarded chinese food containers as she stretched them out under the sheet, feeling safe and secure beneath the weight of the man above her. Michael trailed his fingers through her soft hair, stroking the ruddy strands in a rhythm he matched with his tongue against hers. She groaned against his mouth, Michael's touch eliciting a primal urge deep with her as she arched her back off the bed wanting to be closer to him.

Sara's hand found the hem of Michael sweater and tugged at the slightly stretched, dark blue softness. She wanted to touch his skin and feel the detailed ridges of his tattoo scarring beneath her fingers. Dreams could only take you so far and dreaming of Michael was all Sara had had for a long time. Just like in her dreams, his skin was searing hot to the touch and when she tickled her fingertips against his stomach, Michael's breath hitched in his throat.

“I want to touch you,” Sara breathed between kisses. “Take it off,” she pleaded with a gulp as Michael's blazing lips found the small of her neck where he was busy trailing kisses. Her skin ached when he left it, sitting back on his heels and swiftly pulling his sweater and shirt over his head in one motion. The coolness of the room hit Michael's skin and it prickled to life, each fibre of his being electrified. Sara sat up with him, their faces inches apart as she drank him in with her hungry eyes.

Sara's hazel eyes danced over his torso, her fingers following her gaze with feather light touches. Michael watched her hands on his body, gasping and clenching his jaw tightly as she followed the blue ink lines across his abdomen. Sara's hands fluttered up his skin, brushing delicately over his erect nipples, studying each and every line as she went. Her fingertips dragged along the wings of an angel, knelt down and accepting his fate, the long sword of his demonic counterpart mercilessly poised above him. She kept going, skipping across the intricate artistry, dancing her fingers against Michael's symbol of sacrifice to saving his brother. Finally she had seen enough, and lifted her head up to meet his darkened blue eyes. “You're so perfect,” she whispered, dropping her gaze and leaning forward to press a tender kiss to the shadowing alcove drawn above Michael's rapidly beating heart.

It pounded the walls of his ribcage and Michael thought he might die right there and then. Although tender, Sara's touch was torturous and teasing and Michael swallowed hard as he fought with the hardness that grew in his pants. With a gentle touch, Michael seized Sara's hands in his, ended her adventure and lolled his head forward to look at her before him. There was sadness in his eyes, the blue hue tainted by darkness, warmed only by the soft orange glow of two bedside lamps.

Michael could feel her disdain coursing through his touch. He wanted her to touch him, never stop touching him, but it terrified him. For all this time they had played a game, a dance, a compendium of illicit touches in Fox River and hurried embraces whilst being chased down like dogs. Michael wanted nothing more than to show Sara what she meant to him, but he had such a high expectation of himself, he didn't want to fail. Now they were here, together, alone in a room they had both only dreamed of, reality was creeping back into his mind. Michael had no idea how to take down The Company, but all he wanted was for the people he loved to be safe. With inner turmoil etched clear on his face, Michael plucked Sara's hand in his and gently brushed his thumb over her knuckles.

“Sara...” Michael began, his long skilled fingers entwining with hers. Her name, like so many other times he had said it, was a question, a plea and the only word Michael could say right now. Sara smiled up at him lovingly, pulled her manicured hands from his and reached up to cup his face. Michael exhaled gently, a sigh of solace. He nuzzled into her grip, pinching his eyes closed to fight back a lone tear that had threatened to escape.

“I know, Michael,” Sara whispered softly. “It won't always be like this,” she echoed his words from what felt like so long ago. Michael's eyes, blurry and watery, opened at her words and he offered her a small, crooked smile.

“I want...” Michael began, a small breath catching in his throat. Michael's mind raced with scenarios, all of which futile, and he pressed his forehead to Sara's with a defeated sigh. “I don't know how to make this right,” his sighed, his words laced with frustration and sorrow.

Michael's words were barely a whisper in the already silent room and Sara gripped at his face harder. She arched her neck and pressed his lips to his, letting them linger with her non verbal sympathy. Michael's hands found hers and he held onto them against his face for dear life, never wanting to let go. They were supple and velvety against his rough, stubbly cheeks, and Michael never wanted feel without them.

Sara knew exactly what Michael was thinking and feeling because she felt it too. They were pawns in the most excruciatingly unfair game of chess of all time. Like circus animals, they were being lured and coaxed into scenarios that were unnatural and could end in disaster, and the thought of losing Michael tugged at Sara's racing heart. Sara kissed Michael urgently, matching his wanton gasps like it would be the last time, and all of the pain she felt faded away. Michael, like nobody else before, made her feel that way. It was as if she could dance like nobody was watching, sing like nobody was listening, and even if they did catch her, Michael would be there to chase them all away.

“Michael,” Sara had broken the kiss, and roused his eyes open with the mention of his name and a gentle pat on his cheek. Her words poured from her mouth like honey from a spoon, light and inviting and his only tether to reality right now. Michael blinked away a tear, and waited for her words. Sara lowered her head slightly, watching her hands absent mindedly trailing across Michael's stomach where they had magically found themselves again. “Michael, if all we have is now...” she began, blinking rapidly as she lifted her gaze to meet his once more.

Michael gave Sara a puzzled look and felt a rush of cool air fill the space between them as she lent backwards. Maintaining eye contact, Sara's crossed her arms over her body, grabbing the hem of her white blouse and in one effortless motion, she pulled it over her head. The action caught her bun, dislodging its security, and her darkened, slightly curled hair tumbled over her shoulders. Sara discarded her top with a casual flick sideways, and it landed with a heap next to Michael's.

The sight before him only made Michael's body ache more, and he shifted on the mattress with a wobble, trying to help the semi hard member he had developed become more comfortable. Sara's body was smooth and milky, and Michael drank her in hungrily. Michael began to pant harder when Sara's reached up behind her back and unclipped her bra, sending it flying to a similar fate across the room. Michael flushed pink with heat as Sara's breasts bounced into view, their rounded curves and unblemished skin even more glorious than Michael had imagined.

“You can't suddenly be shy now,” Sara smiled wickedly, tossing her hair behind her with a small flick of her head.

“I...I can't think...” Michael stammered, shaking his head slowly from sided to side. The sight of Sara half naked before him was enough to clear his mind, and he felt excited but uneasy. When your mind raced like a greyhound all day long, shutting it off was next to impossible. The fact that Sara could do that to his brain made Michael feel exposed and vulnerable.

“Then don't,” Sara reached out her hand, plucking Michael's heavy paw from where it dangled at his side, and with a unabashed confidence, laid his hand across her breast above her heart. Sara's nipples, already hard from the coolness in the room, stretched and stood to attention under his palm. “This is yours now and forever Michael,” she said softly, flattening her hand over his. Michael could feel the quickening of her heartbeat beneath his hand and he lifted his eyes to meet hers once more. “Whatever happens, we will always have right now.”

“I love you Sara,” Michael breathed, his other hand reaching up to shakily tuck an escaped tendril of Sara's luscious hair behind her ear. He outlined the smooth skin behind her ear with his finger and followed the line of her perfect jaw to her chin.

“Show me,” Sara whispered against Michael's face and he tilted her head back a little and planted a dainty kiss to her lips.

A small groan escaped Sara's throat and her body instinctively melted into Michael's touch. Eyes closed, she kissed him back feverishly, her mouth parting and inviting his tongue into the warm wetness of her mouth. Michael pushed forward, diving his tongue a deep as he could whilst he bunched Sara's hair between his fingers and pulled her face closer to his. Sara's arms found Michael's neck and pulled him closer. Michael felt Sara's pebble like nipples brush his skin as her breasts heaved with her ragged breaths and it sent shivers down through his every fibre.

They both wanted this. They had wanted this for far too long and the fact Michael had spent the last few months believing that the only woman he had loved in the entire world was dead made it all the more urgent. He would not let this opportunity pass him by again. Neither of them knew what was to come. The Company were relentless in their pursuit of hiding the truth and as they hurriedly shed their pants, Michael and Sara knew in their hearts they were far from vindication. If all they had was right now, they would not waste it.

Sara's body fell back onto the feathery pillows and a small arm reached out to pluck at the hanging switch of the lamp closest to her. It clicked when pulled, the bulb extinguishing the orange glow it had previously spread across the room. Sara hadn't told Michael about what happened to her and she wanted to hide the scars as long as she could, especially now. She felt safe with Michael, and wiggled deeper into the downy duvet, one leg gently lifted over the other as her naked form cast a greying shadow from the one light left switched on.

Sara's gaze fell to the other side of the room and she reached out a hand towards the other lamp. Michael caught it mid air, squeezing her digits in his and pulled it away from the offending light source. Sara flushed hot with the touch, and searched Michael's face for a reason. “I want to look at you,” he whispered, tickling the skin on her forearm as his eyes scanned every inch of her sublime body. “You're so amazing,” he breathed, feeling a surge of blood rushing to his groin.

Sara made herself heavier in the duvet, pressing her back into the sheets and hiding her off white reminders of Gretchen assault. Sara knew that if Michael knew then he would kill Gretchen, but the act of doing so would mean Sara would lose him forever. She had to give him something to want more than revenge, something worth holding onto that was more than just a reverie of what was to come. Right here, right now, Sara could show Michael that everything they had been through, everything that was to come, would end in the most glorious but fucked up fairy tail ending. With a smirk, Sara wiggled her hips tantalizingly slowly and with a small lick of her finger, she trailed the wetness down her neck between the valley of her breats.

“God Sara,” Michael breathed into the half lit room as he perched on his heels at Sara's feet. Imagination and teasing touches can only take you so far, and Michael found it hard to think straight with the sight before him. Sara was beautifully flawless, her pallid skinned body aching for his touch, taught and sublime and laid out before him tucked softly into the thick comforter. Michael absently reached out and gripped a strong hand around her exquisite ankle and Sara curled her toes against the hair skin of his thigh. “Do you know what you do to me?” His words left his lips on a laugh, his fingertips pursuing the inside of her lower leg.

Sara grinned a sultry open mouthed smile and pulled one leg up, dragging her toes agonizingly lightly along the length of Michael's thigh. Michael frowned when her leg left his touch, but he watched her features, fascinated by her innocently wicked smirk. Sara wiggled her tiny toes across the top of Michael's thigh and prompted him to open his legs slightly with a small push of her heel. Nervously Michael complied and a crooked beam spread across his lips as Sara rested her faultless foot to his crotch. “I think I have an idea,” she arched an eyebrow an her lips twitched in a sideways smirk.

Michael didn't think it possible to get any harder but his body reacted under her assault, her foot pressing unhurriedly to his erection and making him gasp. Sara bit her bottom lip as she watched his reaction to her advance, the tiniest groan that escaped his slightly open mouth a deep, guttural rumble that Sara's body instantly reacted to. His eyes pinched closed and his hand shot out to grip her ankle again, halting her relentless onslaught of his manhood. “Sara, stop...” Michael pleaded, his vision blurry and his words mildly slurred.

Sara giggled low in her chest and her breasts jiggled once more as she pursed her lips into a pout. Michael gulped hard and his cheeks flushed with sudden embarrassment, shaking with a shiver that had invaded his body. “I haven't...” he began, boring into her with his darkened stare. “It has been a long time,” he confessed. “I might...”

Sara smiled sweetly back at him, her face softening and the playfulness evaporating. “I'll save the teasing for another time then,” she interrupted, taking the weight of his timidness from him. Michael felt a pang of guilt at her words and was awash with love for the woman laid out before him. Sara was unashamed perfection and Michael could tell by the small, hurriedly trimmed mound below her naval that Sara had waited for him. The least he could do was show her how content that had made him. Sara deserved to be at least as happy right now.

Michael fell forward suddenly making Sara jump excitedly beneath him. His heavy hands fell against the bed with a dull, springy echo beside Sara's hips and she instantly felt his warmth against her skin. She took a deep breath, inhaling his familiar scent whilst her eyes searched his for an indication of what he was planning. “Michael?” Sara quizzed as he crawled up the bed slowly, his body inches from hers but never touching. When their eyes met again, Sara licked her lips nervously. “Michael, what are you doing?”

Michael only answered with a smirk and closed the gap to capture her mouth in a luscious kiss. Sara's entire body went weak beneath his naked body and she snaked her hands around the back on his neck, her fingertips dancing on the hairs there as she deepened the kiss with her ravenous tongue. Michael smiled against her lips and his muscles flexed beneath his skin, his tattoo a blue blur as he effortlessly reached behind his head with one hand and pulled Sara's hands from his skin.

A small whimper of disapproval left Sara's throat and she was confused for a second until Michael lifted her hands above her head and let them rest on the pillow there. With a soft touch that electrified Sara's being, Michael held her wrists together with one giant hand and using his other, he tenderly balled a fist of her dark dye locks and pulled her head sideways. He broke the kiss without saying a word and trailed damp kisses along her jaw line, under her ear lobe and to her finely exposed neck.

Sara's body melted from its sudden flush of heat. Michael was gently rough, a oxymoron in itself, much like the man she had come to know. Every man in Fox River protested his innocence, but Michael was one of the only ones she knew was good. His heart was pure, his intentions were just and right now, as Michael made her body ache and yearn for everything he had to offer with just the slightest of nibbles to her neck, Sara knew Michael was everything she needed.

“Michael...” The words left her lips on a hushed tone, her eyes fluttering closed and her back arching off the bed, pressing itself into his.

A low rumble escaped Michael, somewhere deep in his throat, somewhere primal and dark. He let the hand holding Sara's wrists relax and dragged his fingers down her pale skinned arm, leaving them above her head. Sara complied with his silent request and dug her fingers under the pillow she had slid from, hooked her hands under the headboard and held on for dear life. Michael's hand in Sara's hair let go when he was satisfied with tasting the skin on her neck and she whimpered in detest until his feathery fingertips danced down the sides of her body, moving onto their next target.

Michael followed his hands with his mouth, dragging his tongue across Sara's collarbone and lapping up the moist areas with tender kisses. There was no relief for Sara as his hands cupped the sides of her engorged breasts, audaciously moving them into one another so he could assault both of her hardened nipples with ease. Michael's expert tongue darted out over one, followed by a short suckle of the offending part. Sara's breathe left her quickly and her fingertips turned white as they gripped the headboard behind her. She could feel Michael's wicked grin against her second breast as he repeated his actions, licking, sucking and finally humming with pleasure against her swollen skin.

Finally, and probably unintentionally thinking out loud, Michael broke their silence with a breathy pant. “You taste so good,” he rasped, his voice deepened by desire. “Like vanilla...and salt...and purity...” he panted between more searing hot kisses down Sara's torso, causing her stomach to go heavy and tumble away from her. When he reached her naval, Michael held her hips still and dipped his tongue into the area, enjoying the feel of Sara's skin everywhere against his lips. “Mmmm...” Michael moaned satisfactorily when he flicked his eyes upwards and saw Sara's eyes rolled back in her head and her bottom lip pinched white beneath her teeth.

Sara was having a hard time breathing beneath Michael and the closer he got to her core, the worse it got. The muscles inside of her pulsed and throbbed painfully, soothed only by the wetness that had appeared in response to Michael's games. She had to remember to breath, but Michael kept snatching away her oxygen with his foreplay. Sara couldn't even find enough to beg him to stop, to end his affliction and just give her what they both wanted. She was sure she couldn't take any more, and the sticky hotness that oozed from his rock solid erection and left cooling lines on her thighs told Sara Michael was in the same situation.

Every dream Sara had ever had about Michael was nothing compared to now. Clearly disappointed with her imagination, Sara whimpered at Michael's every touch. His hands roamed over her hips, his nails grazing over her skin if she moved too far away with her wiggling and pulling her back towards his hot tongue as it teased around her soaking wet core. She had no idea how long he had been assaulting her body before he finally decided to plant a gentle kiss to the top of her mound and coax her legs apart with two strong hands.

Michael could smell her arousal as soon as Sara relaxed and let him open her legs. He paused his kissing and took her in fully with a sharp intake of air, the moisture of her arousal glistening in the dull light against the outside of her. His body shuddered but Michael wasn't sure if it was anticipation or nervousness. Sara's core, her everything, was inches from his hungry mouth and it was intoxicating. Michael's erection dug into the duvet as he sprawled himself out flat on the bed and mildly pulled her outer lips apart, exposing his prize. Sara groaned, half frustrated and half a beg.

“I can stop,” he lied on a tense whisper, the breath from his words tickling against the super sensitive bundle of nerves in front of him making Sara shudder. The muscles in his forearms quivered as he held the weight of Sara's jelly like legs apart. “If this is too much too soon.”

“Don't you dare,” Sara murmured, lifting her head to take him in. Michael between her legs was sending her into chaos. On one hand she was suddenly self conscious, looking him directly in the eye and silently thanking him for his stupid statement that had allowed her a few seconds to gather her much needed breaths. On the other, she was angry he had stopped. “If you stop now...” Sara began but her words turned into a squeak as Michael's lips closed deftly around her clitoris.

Michael held Sara's hip still as she slammed her head back into the pillow with a dull thud and pounded a fist into the headboard. “God Michael...” she wailed, her words almost a cry as Michael sucked at the offending nub of nerves again and again before replacing his harshness with soft licking. Michael's hands slipped closer to her centre and he groaned to himself at how wet Sara was. He had done this to her, nobody else, and Michael's inner beast came alive once more. He wanted to taste her on his tongue, hold her close and never let her go. Sara was his, and only he could taste her honey sweet core.

Michael wrapped his inked arms around her thighs and pulled her down the bed further, hungrily devouring her hot, wetness with his tongue. One of his thumbs laid itself onto the bundle of nerves above his nose and he rolled the nub in lazy circles as he lapped up her juices. Sara was like fine wine, her nectar coating his mouth and so abundant he felt a small dribble of it run down the corner of his mouth. Michael grunted with anticipated greed and Sara was sure he would leave tiny purple marks on her thighs if she kept trying to wiggle from him. She couldn't help it, he was amazing, and all she wanted was to come. “I can't...” she sobbed incoherently. “Don't stop, Michael,” she pleaded as her body began its familiar ascent into oblivion.

Michael felt the duvet grow damp underneath him as Sara's wails turned him on further. Michael had never felt so aroused, his erection begging to be inside her at this exact moment, but Michael was sure he wouldn't last if he entered her now. He wanted to make sure she was at least sated once before his own arousal was seen to. The sounds that escaped Sara on each and every thrust of his tongue were addictive and he never wanted to forget what they sounded like. Michael wanted to hear them for the rest of his life, they were like melodies to his ears, and when he replaced his thumb with his mouth again, Sara expelled more music for him.

“I'm so close...” She whispered, her hands grabbing blindly between her legs at the soft fuzziness of his shaven scalp. “Please...” she begged, almost a cry. Michael released his grip on her thighs and with a slow, agonizing motion, slipped two fingers inside Sara and languidly stroked at her delighted core. “Oh fuck...Michael!” she squeaked as she saw the familiar white flashes behind her eyelids. Sara's orgasm hit her like a train, rendering her useless and weak as she rolled her hips against Michael mouth, his talented tongue lapping against her arousal as it pulsated between his lips. Michael felt her come on his fingers, her inner muscles pulling at his long digits and covering his hand in slick, erotic ambrosia.

Sara gripped at the comforter around her as she rode her orgasm down, shuddering involuntarily as Michael flicked his tongue over her clitoris. He left his fingers inside of her until he could feel her muscle spasms fade away, and then pulled them out to taste his achievement on his hand. Sara was delicious, her sweet nectar like a drug he had to sample more of. Michael inched his fingers back inside for more and Sara gasped, her body reacting instantly to his touch as her toes curling against his hips where they were resting. “Fuck...” she repeated on a gulp, swiping her clammy forehead with the back of her hand and peering down between her legs. “I'm sorry,” she mused when Michael looked up at her with a wicked grin.

“Why are you sorry?” Michael dropped his gaze back to the glory in front of him and withdrew his fingers again, licking them and savouring that the second taste of Sara was even more glorious than the first. Sara's head fell back onto the bedsheets and she closed her eyes and exhaled hard. “I'm not,” Michael said, his voice soothing but mischievous as he dipped his digits in once more.

Sara struggled to find her words as Michael tickled his fingers inside of her once again. Her body was alive already and it didn't take long for her to want more. “I wanted...you,” Sara panted. Michael had increased his motion in and out of her with his fingers and once again and his lips had found her bundle of hot nerves, coaxing them back into play.

Michael curled his fingers, enjoying how helpless Sara was at his touch. “You have me,” he teased, withdrawing his fingers a final time and making Sara groan for more. Michael dipped his tongue inside of her sex and was met with the familiar dampness and scent he craved.

“Inside me,” she breathed, almost a begging whimper.

Michael gave her clitoris a few last sucks and pushed himself up on his elbows between her legs. Sara looked down at him, her hazel eyes had turned darker, more lustful and she had a hue surrounding her post orgasm that Michael could get used to enjoying. Michael kissed the inside of her thigh, never breaking eye contact, and crawled up over her body capturing her lips in a pleasant kiss. Sara couldn't take it any more and reached down between their bodies to take his girth in her hand. His raging erection was begging as much as Sara was, and Michael hissed between his teeth when Sara twisted her hand up and down his length.

Sara parted her lips and pulled Michael's face to hers harder with her free hand. Their tongues duelled as she tasted herself on his saliva, her rich, precious sweetness invading her mouth as he kissed her. The taste of her in his mouth made Sara want more and and she hungrily nipped at his lips as they kissed. It was vehemently erotic and Michael's tongue pushed hard against her, giving her mouth of what she craved.

Sara felt the familiar twinge of sexual excitement between her thighs and let go of Michael's erection only briefly to play with her own juices. With a tiny, quivering motion, she rubbed herself, soaking her fingers with her own extract before using it as a lubricant on Michael's solidness. Michael shuffled one of his legs between Sara's and silently guided her legs apart with his knee. Sara let go of his member and cupped his face between her hands, tiny beads of sweat on his brow a sure sign of his inner fight to hold back his own impending release. Her arousal had peaked again, not taking as long the second time round and Sara broke the kiss to peer into Michael's almost black eyes.

“Now,” she pleaded, her hands falling to brace herself against Michael's chest. His heart was beating faster under his rib cage and Sara was sure it was because he was so close himself. Michael reached a shaky hand between them and positioned himself at her entrance. He felt her wetness slick across his tip, their juices mixing together. Michael paused, searching Sara's face for the permission he knew he would always have. Sara smiled at his worried expression. “It's okay,” she soothed with a heavy lidded smile. “It will always be okay.”

Michael's arms shook under his weight as he angled his hips forward and slowly entered Sara. She was so wet and tight it made Michael groan and his arms gave out, falling on top of her and hiding his face into the crevice of her shoulder. Sara wrapped he arms around Michael's broad chest, her fingertips barely meeting as they gripped at the blue lines of his tattoo on his powerful back muscles. Michael's huge hand held Sara's head to his and he withdrew himself from her deliberately. “I love you,” he whispered into her ear and pushed himself home once more.

Sara gasped, her body stretching to take Michael's girth. It was a good painful to take him all in and she was thankful for his tentative speed. She wanted to take in every little part about making love to Michael. The way his body moved above her and the sound of his breathes on each thrust. Sara didn't want to miss a thing and her need grew inside her. Sara lifted a leg, wrapped it around Michael's waist and invited him deeper into her essence.

Michael lifted his head and watched Sara's features as he poured himself into her again. The bed beneath them let out a slight cracking noise with each thrust as Michael attempted to simultaneously hold in his orgasm whilst chasing Sara's. Their faces were almost touching, forehead to forehead, Sara's twisted with yearning as Michael grabbed her hip, holding it to his skin whilst he began pounding into her recklessly. He didn't want there to be any space between them as they came. He wanted them to be one entity, wrapped up in each other so deep no one would be able to pull them apart.

“Come with me, Michael,” Sara squealed suddenly, her second orgasm creeping up on her out of no where. Her head pounded and she clawed at Michael's back, urging him deeper inside her. Michael felt his own release as a hot white flash behind his eyes and a sudden falling feeling in his gut as he came. He was sure he left fingertip shaped bruises on Sara's hip as he held her down on each stuttered thrust to empty his seed inside of her. Sara shuddered beneath him, chanting his name like a mantra against his sticky damp shoulder as he slowed his thrust into her pulsating core that pulled him still deeper.

Finding her face once more, Michael pressed his lips to her fine mouth, letting his lips linger on hers. He gave a satisfactory hum on her mouth and smiled down at her, their bodies still connected and twitching slightly from their rapture. The only sound in the room was their breathing, ragged and dry between tender pecks. Michael's grip loosened on her hip and he brushed his fingers over the area lightly, a silent apology for the marks he knew would appear.

“We will be okay,” Sara offered weakly, flattening a shaky palm over Michael's heart that still threatened to burst out of his chest.

“We will,” Michael lied because it made them both feel safe.

Neither of them knew what the future held. They knew all they wanted was each other and they would make the most of what they had right now.

 

 


End file.
